Loving Harper: SEAL Brotherhood: Silver Team, page 13
Harper and the five in the Sprinter van verified their location and asked for a drone to be sent over the hill to Kenwood to help them out. One of Paul Taylor’s NV drones was sent out, capable of traveling more than twenty miles per hour and able to record videos. It would be monitored by the house and arrive before the van did.
Others back at the house were using live map feeds, linked to county records so they had the location of the house, pictures of it and the neighborhood, and the names of all the neighbors nearby whether tenants or owners. They passed this down to Harper. There was a car in the driveway, a compact Ford. Also, a front porch light was on. It was a rural neighborhood without sidewalks. To Lydia, it all looked so normal—too normal.
Lydia listened as they chatted back and forth. The drone arrived before the team did. It did several sweeps up and down the street, showing little traffic at this time of night, but it registered all of the cars in the neighborhood including their license plates, which was downloaded to the team. The team was able to verify who was registered and who might be visitors. All the registrations were current and matched the vehicles. Nothing showed up as either a vehicle or home ownership in the couple’s name. In fact, it showed an owner occupant living at that property, a Mrs. Barker. It did not appear to be a rental.
Harper received all this information and let them know he’d parked a block away. They spread out and surrounded the tiny house from all four sides. There wasn’t time for a sniper, but Greg had brought his long gun anyway, just in case Harper needed him to get up on a garage or climb a tree. Before trying to enter, they needed to look inside. The go was given.
Harper carefully approached one of the windows on the east, since it appeared someone was in the living room watching TV.
“Poking my head in the dining window. I got one person in a lounge chair watching TV. Feet up. Looks like an elderly lady,” said Harper. “Can’t see her face.”
“No one in rear bedroom,” said another.
“Nothing in the kitchen. Can’t see the bathroom.”
“Looks like just her. Let’s give her a wake-up.”
The drone was allowed to hover lower, to get a good picture of the front door. Everyone in the house was seeing the whole act play out real-time on multiple monitors.
Careful to not make a sound on the porch, Harper knocked. And then he quickly backed away in case he was met with a volley bullets.
Nothing happened.
They pounded on the door the next time, using the owner’s name. “Mrs. Barker? Are you there, Mrs. Barker?” Harper said outside the door. He put his ear to the window and didn’t hear any movement.
He was given the all-clear to enter. He banged louder, asking for the owner again.
Next thing Lydia saw on the monitor was three of them breaching the front door and one coming through the back. They didn’t use explosives since the front door wasn’t even locked. Running into the living room with guns drawn, they found Mrs. Barker in the lounge chair. Everyone saw it as Harper described her.
“Gun shot wound to the head. Elderly white woman, about eighty. Appears to have been shot where she sat.”
The body cam on Harpers bulletproof vest revealed a typed message on a piece of binder paper stuck to her chest.
“Goddamnit, we’ve been had,” mumbled Harper.
Lydia heard the admiral ask him to read the note.
“‘See you guys in hell. Don’t wait up for me. I’ve got things to do and places to go. Hope you have a nice day. My friends are much more valuable to me alive than dead. We’re taking a little trip together, but see you soon! All my love.’”
The whole team burst into action. Lydia heard the admiral trying to get information from the guards who handed Lipori over.
The drone kept buzzing the whole area. Harper’s team called the police, and as sirens began blaring, neighbors came out of their houses to look at the commotion. All five Silver Team members easily spoke to most of them, while keeping a lookout for any of their suspects who could still be lurking in the neighborhood.
“Give me some good news, Admiral,” said Harper.
“Yes, the plane and the three men took off on time. They lost the tail, though, which concerns me. But I got verification he was checked in and on board. They would be landing in Rome in seven hours. The black car was abandoned at the drop-off. I’m checking with the terminal for a passenger manifest.”
Several of the guys at the home called airport security to alert them and help with the manifest. Reports came back nothing unusual occurring, but Dulles was one of the busiest airports in the country.
Patterson got word to the airline company about the potential mishap. They reported no skirmishes or problems with the passengers. But they promised to alert the captain and stewardess so that, once they landed, they could land in a secure location and have the plane searched.
“What do you think, Admiral? Do you think he’s really on that plane?”
“I’m more worried about the couple. I’d like to know where they are.”
“To the home, be on your toes,” said Harper. “Let’s call the local Feds.”
The admiral confirmed he was doing just that.
People continued to check the drones, looking for movement and vehicles driving through the neighborhood. Harper and the others were showing the couple’s picture and asking people for sightings. Nothing came up. The whole neighborhood lit up when the coroner and the Kenwood Police arrived. Even more people came out into the street, clad in their pajamas and robes. The story given the Team was that Mrs. Barker was just a nice retired lady, well-liked, living by herself. She never had visitors, and she was just a regular. Just a no name face.
The perfect foil, thought Lydia. It was becoming all too perfect. The operation had thought of everything, and still these people had fallen through the cracks. But they weren’t done yet.
Lydia was suddenly becoming more fearful each minute that lapsed. It was turning out to be just as she had feared. She was beginning to doubt whether or not there was going to be anything they could do to confine him, to keep him from having his way however he wanted. He was two steps ahead of them in every sense. The coordination was masterful. She wished they had not boarded a plane that had to travel so far, because time was of the essence. The pilot wouldn’t do an identity check with the plane mid-flight, especially flying internationally, so they would have to wait. She knew it was planned that way.
After the search in Kenwood and discussion with the police, Harper told the group they were coming back. The snipers checked in, Greg on top of the shed in the regional park said he saw some coyotes slide by, but no humans that he could tell.
One of the policeman called in, and it was patched into Harper’s comm for all to hear, some information about an intruder that had been wandering the neighborhood that evening.
“So what was the report?” Harper asked.
“She just said that she saw some guy poking his head around the window. And when he saw her, he left. Later, she saw him lurking around Mrs. Barker’s house.”
“More than one or just one?” Harper asked.
“Just one. And he didn’t have a car, either. He rode a bicycle.”
Someone announced, “That sounds like somebody living in the neighborhood. I’ll bet they’re still there.”
“So we’re going to change this, guys. We’re gonna stay and continue looking,” said Harper.
“Roger that,” said one of the kids at the monitor in the living room.
While the house was buzzing with juice and tons of energy, Harper and the five guys cleared the roadway, examined several vacant homes, and even checked people’s backyards when people were too afraid to go outside and check themselves. They looked at garages; they checked inside vacant cars, RVs, one boat, and a few campers. Most of the neighborhood dogs were barking their lungs out. The coroner left with Mrs. Barker’s body, but the crime unit was working over the house carefully, collecting clues. Harper was obliged to turn over the note, but he took a picture of it first and was promised DNA evidence after they’d had it tested for prints.
Three hours went by, and with no specifics and no clues, it was becoming a dead end. They had questioned most of the neighbors with few exceptions. There was little else to do. So the team decided to come back to Bennett Valley.
Seconds later, Venom alerted. He started barking, dashing around in circles, wanting to go out the front door.
“Venom, he’s coming back. Daddy’s coming back. Is that what you’re looking at?” asked Lydia.
One of the boys asked Harper how far away was. He was nearly twenty minutes away, not close enough for Venom to alert. The kid looked at Lydia. She could see the fear. Her whole world changed in that instant.
Lydia reached out to him. “Harper, Venom’s alerting. Something’s going on here. Get your butt back, but watch yourself, okay?”
“Will do. Have the guys ask the birds if they see anything.”
She was confused but heard someone checking in.
Both Mallory and Greg confirmed. The report was negative.
“Anybody check on Sally?” Mallory asked.
“Brandon and Gordon, you guys up?”
The silence was stunning.
No one returned that call.
Chapter 17
Lydia grabbed her cell and called Harper.
“Hey there.”
“Remove your comms.”
“What?”
“Remove your comms.”
She heard the rustle movement on her earpiece. “Done. What’s up?”
“They’re at Sally’s. That means they have comms. They are hearing everything we’re saying. Get your guys silenced.”
Rory, one of the young techs, whispered to her, his earpiece removed, “They should still chatter like normal. We don’t want them to know.”
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes. Done. Shit!”
Rory was passing information along the line with the men watching the monitors. Cell phones were out, and texting was fast and furious. He came back seconds later with a written note stating he’d gotten hold of Patterson. She nodded and let Harper know.
“Patterson says they should ditch the van. It’s probably got listening devices planted, unless they checked before they took off.”
Again, Lydia asked if he’d heard.
“Yes. Will do. Okay, gotta run. We’re on our way.”
They all heard Harper’s foul-mouthed tirade on their comms. “Shit guys, we got a blowout. I’m going to be late. Everyone stay in touch, hear? We’re on foot now, just outside of Kenwood.”
Lydia knew it was the perfect ruse.
One of the techs gave his phone to Lydia. The admiral was on the line.
“I’ve issued orders to stay put for now. Let Harper and his five guys get to your location. But be ready to defend. I don’t have the snipers. Can you make sure they’re focusing on Sally’s? If anyone attempts to leave, they need to be stopped from afar. Get my drift?”
“Yessir, I will.”
“And, Lydia, good thinking.”
She was amazed he was so calm under this kind of pressure. “I appreciate that, sir. Actually, it was Mallory who thought to check on Sally. But I’m glad I could help.”
“Okay, we’re gearing up for the landing in about an hour. Gotta go. You make sure to call this number if anything changes.”
“Will do.”
Her heartbeat slowed way down as her body cooled, preparing herself for a battle, perhaps. She and one of the techs double-checked the windows and doors. They asked for a report from the snipers, and it came back negative. They were tracking both houses now.
Venom had calmed down but was lying down in front of the entrance, waiting, listening. She knew better than to take him outside, but he’d need to go soon if she didn’t.
She ignored the chattering until she heard a little scream and thought she detected Sally’s voice. Everyone at the consoles began to chatter. They purposely gave messages to the two men with her, Brandon and Gordon, to throw the others off.
“Hey, Brandon. We know you’re on the pot this morning. It doesn’t take an hour to take a shit, man,” Paul said, casually. “Please check-in.”
“Goose, Sally fixing bacon for breakfast? I’m needing some right about now,” he said to Gordon. He shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Lydia.
“Don’t know if it will work, but gotta try.”
She agreed.
Harper called her to let them know they found a farmer who lent them his ATV, and although it wasn’t very quiet, they’d be over the hill in about ten minutes. Lydia told him nothing showed up yet, but she thought she heard a cry for help, perhaps from Sally. “Or she’s been injured.”
Just then, Mallory used the comms. “Hey, guys, we got lots of coyotes over here. You be careful out there. Those guys are so cunning. They’re liable to hitch a ride on one of your drones, so don’t send ’em out, okay?”
The veiled message was that they were on the move.
Greg answered. “Got it. Quit looking for coyotes and do your job, Mal.”
“Asshole,” came the voice over the comms. Then they all heard a shot ring out. Greg was staring at a screen showing Sally’s garage as several people were herded into one group, attempting to get into Sally’s car. The people weren’t hurt, but Mallory had done a good number on the passenger side front tire. That vehicle would not be drivable.
Now alerted, the group quickly fell back to the house and disappeared.
She called Harper. “They’ve got them pinned down. We don’t know who’s there, but they can’t get away in a disabled vehicle, thanks to Mallory.”
“Awesome. We’re almost there.”
Venom squealed and ran to the back door. Two fully armed men shut down the lights inside to keep the intruders from seeing inside. Nothing they could do about their double monitor wall, though, so a blue light still lit up the room.
They wore vests and helmets with NV goggles, slipping out the back door. Venom wanted to run with them, but Lydia held him back. He was anxious to get out there and go after the source of his concern.
They stopped the chatter. Greg came up to Lydia with a whisper. “They want to release the dog. You okay with that?”
She looked at Venom, who sat at her feet, totally focused on her eyes, begging for the chance to track. It would break her heart if anything happened to the dog. She had to rely on his training, on her faith that he’d be smart enough to get to someone before he got hurt. She didn’t have time to call Harper and ask for a second opinion. She had to act and act now.
“Let’s do it.”
The door opened a few inches, and Venom made space through it and dashed off the deck, stealthy in his pursuit of something out there. Two shots rang out, but they heard Venom grab hold of something.
One of the Team fired. The dog was still making good work out of wrangling someone until one member arrived, and the noises ceased.
She didn’t want to call out for him. She really didn’t want to, but she heard him barking and running up the trail as fast as he could, toward the back door of the house. He leapt into Lydia’s arms. His teeth and mouth were covered in blood, but the dog was ecstatic. The whole team cautiously checked him over and gave him kudos he gladly accepted.
Greg was watching out for his teammates, and finally, they returned. They had the couple, both wearing military grade gear, including tactical vests. The man had taken a kill shot to the head, and the woman was screaming in pain, her left arm and neck mangled by the dog.
Lydia was on the phone to Harper.
“We’re right outside Sally’s house. That’s great news.” He hung up.
Harper left his comms on so the rest of the team could listen. He’d cornered Lipori in the garage. The terrorist threatened to shoot Sally, who was draped over him, apparently unconscious.
Lipori also wore an earpiece. Lydia thought this was all staged like some kind of passion play. But of course, Lipori, ever the overly confident evildoer, could never envision he could lose this little battle, not without taking a whole bunch of people with him.
She knew he would try to take Harper.
Except he had one flaw. He wanted to live, unlike some of the jerks he trained. He was no suicide terrorist. He enjoyed living too much. He would never get rid of the grip he had on the chance to make other’s lives miserable, pawns in his own horror movie.
One of the five Team Guys confronted Lipori, giving him a moment’s distraction as he turned without his coconspirators behind him, and Harper took the shot. In the millisecond before he pulled the trigger, there was silence. And then they all heard it.
“One giant kill for all mankind,” he said.
Chapter 18
Lydia didn’t get to see Harper for almost a half an hour, as the Team gathered their things and made arrangements for transportation of the bodies and the patient. She would find out later that Sally had been knocked around a bit, the last blow so hard it left her unconscious. But she awakened later with a splitting headache, and they suspected a concussion. She had been bound and gagged and thrown in the same room as Gordon and Brandon, who had been chained and handcuffed. After being freed, Harper told her the worst injury was pulling the duct tape from their eyes and their mouths. Luckily, nobody was seriously hurt.
Lydia knew she was going to need to spend time with Sally. It had been such a harrowing experience, and Lydia knew how disoriented and how unstable her mental state was going to be.
When he walked through the door, Harper was sweaty and dirty from riding the ATV across the hill, over five miles. He was covered in grass stains, mud, and blood. He had cuts on his arms and fingers, having taken most of the brunt of it, being the driver. The rest of his guys were either on the miniscule flatbed in the way back or the second seat behind him.
She ran to him and swung her arms around him, sweat and all.
“I was so worried this time, but I knew you would be okay. I knew you were going to get there in time.”
